Dancing with Helen Moller; her own statement of her philosophy and practice and teaching formed upon the classic Greek model, and adapted to meet the aesthetic and hygienic needs of to-day, with forty-three full page art plates;

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11 THE UN

DANCING WITH HELEN MOLLER

TO THE READER

An Invitation trom the Author.

Throughout the text of this book I have used the
impersonal pronoun, "we," in proper acknowledgment of
the fact that the basic ideas expressed therein are already
accepted by a large number of the healthiest, the hap-
piest and the most contented inhabitants of this and
other countries. They are of all ages, from six and seven
years up to sixty and seventy. They are not all "Greek
Dancers," by any means; yet, owing to the natural and
wholesome lives they live, in common with us who dance
with the Arcadians, doubtless some of them will feel the
impulse to celebrate their hundredth birthday in that
way.

It is possible that you are one of this constantly
increasing multitude of the healthy, the happy and the
contented; if not, you are cordially invited to join us;
not necessarily in our dancing — although that is the best
and most efficacious way — but as an active enemy of all
that is false and ugly and a practicing advocate of what-
ever enters our lives that is true and beautiful.

J^Alt.*,UjLUjUi^^

The Temple,

New York,

New Years Day,
1918.

ACKNOWLEDGMENT

Many of the photographs reproduced in this book
were taken by the author herself. For the privilege
of reproducing other fine examples of the pho-
tographer's art, she desires to express her grateful
acknowledgments to Moody, to Maurice Goldberg,
to Charles Albin and to Underwood and Under-
wood; also to Arnold Gen the for the plate on Page
36; and to Jeremiah Crowley for his admirable
arrangement of the entire series of illustrative art
plates.

INTRODUCTION

^^HIS book, "Dancing with Helen MoUer," is a new
Lfl message of beauty to modern civilization. Besides

attempting to lay the foundation for a new move-
ment of terpsichory, she appears as a priestess of an
ancient yet neglected truth: the return to nature, spon-
taniety, simplicity, health, grace and happiness by means
of dancing. In doing so she goes wisely back to the
fundamental principles which are the bases of all folk-
arts, particularly of the folk-dances, and the ancient Greek
dances.

As she so eloquently expresses in her series of philo-
sophical essays on the subject, her "dancing is Greek plus
American adaptability and creativeness." We find that
no Athenian festivals ever were celebrated without danc-
ing. The Pythian, Marathon, Olympic and all other great
national games opened and ended with dancing. The de-
signs with which the gods used to adorn the shields of
heroes represented the dances contrived by Daedalus for
fair-haired Ariadne. Socrates danced with Aspasia and
Aristides danced at a banquet given by Dionysius of Syra-
cuse. Thus the Greeks danced always and everywhere.
They danced in the temples, in the woods and in the fields.
Every social or family event, birth, marriage, and death,

gave occasion for a dance. Theseus celebrated his vic-
tory over the Minotaur with dances. Apollo dictated
choreographic laws through the mouths of his priestesses.

The best Greek dancers came from the Arcadians.
The main aim of the Arcadian dancers was to contrive
the most perfect plastic grace in the various poses of the
human body, and in this, classic sculpture was their ideal.
It is said that the divine sculpture of Greece was inspired
by the high standard of national choreography. Dancing
in Greece was performed by men and women alike. In
some of these dances they wore a loose garment, keeping
their arms and legs bare, in others they danced perfectly
naked. Through dancing the Greeks developed such
beautiful bodies that they disliked to hide their plastic
lines with any garments, therefore they preferred to ap-
pear naked, and more so in the temples and theatres than
in their homes or in society. The fact that Greek sculp-
ture is mainly nude can be attributed not so much to any
abstract art ideals as to the actual custom of the time.

Helen Moller's ideal in dancing has been the same
that actuated Rodin in his immortal works when he said :
"To produce good sculpture it is not necessary to copy
the works of Greece; it is necessary first of all to regard
the works of nature, and to see in those of the classics
only the method by which they have interpreted nature."
Helen Moller says : "I am by no means copying the danc-
ing of Greece. I am only learning from the ancient Greek
art to regard the essential laws of symmetry and rhythm,
Space and Time in nature. The ideal of my art is the

simple, majestic image of nature in all its simplicity and
grace. Not tricky acrobatics, spinning whirls and spec-
tacular technique, but soft, spontaneous expressions of
Mother Earth have inspired my dancing."

In her efforts to inspire universal love of dancing,
Helen Moller follows the fundamentals of all the folk-
dances. All folk-dances have their peculiar psychology
which varies according to racial temperament, climate and
other conditions. Races which are notable for quickness
of intelligence display similar racial characteristics in their
folk-dances. For instance, we see vivacity and love of
orderly design in the French, pathos and pugnacity in the
Irish, sentimental reflectiveness in the Germans, spas-
modic vehemence in the Hungarians, the passion of the
Slavs, etc. The vigorous races of Northern Europe in
their damp and cold climate developed dancing as a spe-
cial function of the legs. The Scandinavian folk-dances
betray more heavy and massive movements, while those
of Spain, Italy and France give an impression of romantic
grace, coquettish agility and fire. The folk-dances of the
Cossacks are usually violent and acrobatic, as is their life.
Energy and dreaminess, fire or coolness and a multitude
of other racial qualities assert themselves automatically
in a folk-dance. In the Far East, in Japan, Java, China
and India, dancing consists in movements of the hands
and the fingers alone.

As with all other arts, thus with the art of dancing :
we have wandered far away from the vigor of naturalness.
We have neglected the subjective issues of spontaneity,

dynamics and directness of expression in favor of the ob-
jective issues of form, polish and cleverness. Academic
minds are wont to put a stamp of amateurishness on most
of the attempts which cannot be measured with the scales
of a given school with its technical rules. Dancing
created upon the principles of folk-lore may seem uneven
and amateurish at the first glance, yet nature and human
life are also thus; but thank Heaven, they are not arti-
ficial and sophisticated.

The fundamental purpose of Helen Holler's danc-
ing is to create beauties that emanate, not from a certain
school or method, but directly from the soul of the indi-
vidual. Her ideal is to create life from life. In order to
accomplish this task she goes back to the rhythmic, plastic
and emotional traditions of ancient Greek dancing, to
the folk-dances, the metaphysical and physiological laws
of life and nature. Democracy in dancing is her watch-
word; subjective individualism her supreme aim. Her
tendency is not to seek any solution of the art of dancing
in the arbitrary rules of certain masters but in the very
heart, in the joys and sorrows of the common people. In
avoiding artificialities, she has put into her system of
dancing all the idiomatic peculiarities of an individual
without polishing out of it the vigor of naturalness.

To produce in her dancing a direct expression of
living Time and Space, is what Helen Moller is aiming
at. "Space and Time are the fundamental conditions of
all material existence — and for that same reason the in-
evitable conditions of all material manifestation of man

are within the limits of his earthly being," wrote Prince S.
Volkhonsky in his masterly book on the ballet. If we
agree that art is the highest manifestation of order in
matter, and order in its essence nothing but division of
space and time, we shall understand the fulness of artistic
satisfaction which man must feel when both his organs
of perfection, eye and ear, convey to him not only each
separate enjoyment, but the enjoyment of fusion; when
all his aesthetic functions are awakened in him, not sepa-
rately but collectively, in one unique impression: the
visible rhythm penetrated by the audible simple idea, the
audible realized in the visible, and both united in move-
ment. The combination of the spacial order with the
temporal is that to which Helen Moller aspires. And
when this combination is accomplished, and still more,
when it is animated with expression of images, then no
chord of human impressionability is left untouched, no
category of human existence is neglected ; space and time
are filled with beauty, the whole man is but one aesthetic
perception.

The fundamental elements which characterize the
vigor and spontaneity of all folk-dances are derived from
rhythm. Rhythm is that part of music which compels
a listener to join with, mimic, body, hands and feet.
Rhythm is also evidently the very essential of nature and
human life, as not only rain drops rhythmically, but also
our hearts beat rhythmically. Step, the most elemental
form of expression of rhythm, is the secondary foundation
of the dance. Modern musicians and dancers, however,

have been showing a tendency to ignore rhythm and its
essentials of motion by hiding it carefully away in various
sophistications and gymnastics. Pure unsophisticated
rhythm belongs to the folk-songs and folk-dances, the
most majestic masterpieces of humanity. In order to
solve this matter, and rid the modern mind from the spell
of sophisticated technicians, Helen Moller has launched
her system of dancing by keeping in view the same natural
principles that actuated our ancestors in devising their
folk-dances, — that gave immortality to the dancing, no less
than the sculpture, of ancient Greece.

IVAN NARODNY

TABLE OF CONTENTS

Page

The Classic Ideal — and Ours 21

The Tyranny of Clothes 37

Our Debt to Classic Sculpture 53

Music: Twin Sister of the Dance 69

Our Contribution to Health 85

Dancing Back to Arcady 101

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

I

Page

The Unfolding Leap 20

Expressing Wistful Expectation 22

Atalanta — Expressing Opposing Motives 24

Unfolding — An Idea of Petals Opening 26

Adaptation of the Classic Idea of Pan 28

Different Individual Reactions 30

Rising Upon the Ball of the Foot 32

II

Graceful Swaying of the Erect Body 36

Coordination in a Very Young Dancer 38

Self-consciousness Wholly Obliterated 40

A Playful Spring Movement 42

Graceful Management of Draperies 44

Expression of Hands and Countenance 46

The Aesthetic Value of Simple Draperies 48

III

Caryatid of the Erechtheum 52

Classic Perfection of Repose 54

A Charming Unstudied Attitude 56

Bearing the Bowl of Wine 58

Hygienic Raising of the Chest 60

Votive Incense 62

Sudden Realization of Calamity 64

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS— Continued

IV

Page

A Child's Spontaneous Interpretation 68

Depicting the Arrow's Flight 70

Children Facile in Forming Impromptu Ensembles .... 72

Classic Movements Interpreting Modem Music 74

Reacting to a Single Chord of Music 76

Reacting to a Pizzacato Movement 78

Beauty of Line in Bacchante Figures 80

V

Achievement of the Cloud-veiled Summit 84

Free and Vital Dancing Expression 86

Reacting to the Breath of Spring 88

Floating Forward Upon a Summer Breeze 90

Avoiding Unaesthetic Angles 92

A Gentle Expression of Aspiration 94

The Generative Source of True Expression 96

VI

A Modern Aurora on a Misty Morning 100

Bacchante — Lustful Anticipation 102

Expression of Pleasurable Relaxation 104

An Adaptation from Classic Greek Games 106

Response to Manifestations of Nature 108

Various Interpretations of Pan 110

Aphrodite — a Woodland Interpretation 112

1

ANCING: A STATE OF MIND
ACTING UPON THE EMO-
TIONS AND PRODUCING
PHYSICAL EXPRESSION

The unfolding leap, illustrating the important principle of open free unaf-
fected management of the entire body even in moments of muscular stress.

The Classic Ideal — and Ours

^i^'ET us begin with an intelligent definition. The
w\A s^^J^^* discussed in these pages has two gen-
eral aspects : Dancing, and the Art of the Dance.
Nowadays the Art of the Dance, like Opera and the
Drama, is confined almost exclusively to the stage;
whereas to-day, and from the beginning. Dancing is a
natural gift provided for the pleasure and benefit of all
humanity.

In ancient times, when human nature was naive,
its natural emotions unrepressed and its actions char-
acterized by truth and sincerity, dancing reached a state
of purity, grace and dignity of which the sophisticated
world of to-day knows comparatively nothing. It was
artless, in the sense of lacking refined technique; but it
was truthful ; it faithfully expressed emotion, and therein
lay its surpassing beauty. Because it was healthful, it
was moral ; being artless, its enjoyment was universal —
everybody danced. Joyous emotions being Nature's
first Call to the Dance, and such emotions reacting most

Txnenty-ont

Expressing wistfiil expectation — the hands in an upward receptive gesture
and the countenance as of hope for some yeamed-for gift from above.

/

The Classic Ideal — and Ours

profoundly to the influence of the green earth under the
blue sky, dancing was mainly an open air diversion.
Fashion had not yet attempted the destruction of the
strong and graceful human form by loading it down and
compressing it with fantastic and unnecessary clothing.
Doctors and medicine, finding no place in the Arcadian
scheme of existence, were misfortunes yet to be invented.
This was Dancing in its Golden Age — an ideal, worthy
and entirely practicable which, fortunately with some
success, we are endeavoring to restore.

In a score of thick volumes you may find the his-
tory of the Art of the Dance set forth with the most con-
scientious attention to detail — and very little of value
about Dancing, in the true sense of the word. You may
learn from those volumes that dancing is the most
ancient of the arts ; that its birth was coincident with the
birth of religion ; that the primitive tribes of every land
danced ; that all savages still dance, and that every stage
of civilization has been marked by its own particular
variation upon the ancient dance theme, with the people
of every nation exploiting national dances of their own
invention, while the stage has added all its traditional
resources of exaggeration and spectacularization. Thus
you may learn virtually all there is to be learned about
dances — and miss pretty nearly the whole idea of
Dancing.

Such knowledge is not to be despised. A faithful
history of the dance is the virtual equivalent of a social

Twenty-thret

Atalanta. Depicting the classical moment of the most intense physical and
mental concentration upon two opposing motives — to win the race, yet pause
to seize the prize.

The Classic Ideal — and Ours

history of the world, reflecting ethics, the graphic and
plastic arts, the customs, manners and costumes in all
countries and in each successive stage of civilization.
All this material is of special and legitimate value to the
stage, which, in these times, exercises a function of por-
trayal that is universal in its scope. Probably never be-
fore was the daily life of the people more closely asso-
ciated with the atmosphere of the theatre. Thus, more
than ever, every manifestation of decadence or of prog-
ress in human affairs must, sooner or later, find itself
recorded in stage productions. More and more fully the
stage is recording our progress in restoring the Arcadian
natural grace and beauty of the dance. It invites us who
dance as dancing ought to be, for our own joy and bene-
fit, to make a public diversion of what is our pleasure and
our duty to ourselves. And this is as it should be. It
will contribute new-old beauties to the Art of the Dance,
and it will help to convince the multitude that what they
are witnessing as a stage performance is really what they
themselves should be doing every day of their lives!

Because there existed just one country and one
age in which simple beauty and high serenity of mind
were exalted above all else, we are popularly called,
"Greek Dancers." Let us try to merit that designation.
What modern sculptor would not die content in the
knowledge that his epitaph would proclaim, "Here lies
another Phidias"? In our time we are ages distant from
that living spirit. How quickly it vanished from the

Twenty-five

Unfolding, as though giving or about to receive — an idea of petals opening
to exchange the flower's perfume for the warmth of the sim's rays.

The Classic Ideal — and Ours

world! Not even Michael Angelo could grasp it. "His
vision is of man burdened and disquieted, oppressed by
mysteries which he cannot penetrate, writhing in con-
flict with forces too great for his control. In the sculp-
tures of the Greeks, on the other hand, man is calm and
untroubled — and the gods, we must remember, are but
man exalted and made immortal. Strength, skill, wis-
dom, temperance and modesty are implied in his attitude
of quiet and balanced grace. For him life as he knows it
is good and fair. His reckoning squares itself on earth
and calls for no celestial adjustment hereafter."*

The smug, squeamish, hypocritical Victorian Age
produced poets and painters who sickened and died of
nostalgia for its antithesis, the Age of Pericles. A war-
rior— Lord Elgin — committed the crime of ravishing the
Parthenon of its chief sculptured glories for respectable
sepulture in the British Museum. Wordsworth, in an
hour of true poetic vision, penned a sonnet :

The world is too much with us ; late and soon

Getting and spending, we waste our powers ;

Little we see in Nature that is ours;
We have given our hearts away, a sordid boon!
The sea that bares her bosom to the moon,

The winds that will be howling at all hours.

And are upgathered now like sleeping flowers.
For this, for everything, we are out of tune ;
It moves us not. — Great God, I'd rather be

A Pagan suckled on a creed outworn.
So might I, standing on this pleasant lea.

Have glimpses that would make me less forlorn ;
Have sight of Proteus rising from the sea.

Or hear old Triton blow his wreathed horn.

♦John Warrack, from his introduction to "Greek Scxilpture."

Twenty-seven

An adaptation of the classic idea of Pan — three manifestations emphasizing
the gay and mischievous attributes of that minor deity of the Arcadijin
woodland.

The Classic Ideal — and Ours

Yes, the coveted spirit is Greek. But is that spirit
forever lost because modern hands fail to reproduce it in
marble? Our bodies are in no way different from theirs.
In youth our minds are plastic ; let us encourage them to
so act upon our emotions that there will be true beauty
in our dancing.

In America our prospects are brighter than any-
where elsewhere else in the world. The great mass of
this country's population is unspoiled by the traditions
of arts that have become decadent. Our "melting pot"
is mingling the most vital blood of every enlightened
race under the sun, thus obliterating national traits dis-
covered to be disadvantageous and creating a new people
devoid of belittling prejudices, fresh, strong and original
in its creative impulses. What we have already accom-
plished in our reform of dancing has directed to this
country the hopes and expectations of the connoisseurs
and critical authorities of Europe. Especially with re-
spect to dancing and music among the fine arts they seem
to rely upon us for fresh, regenerative impulses.

Of course, in view of their source, these expecta-
tions concern dancing as an art for public representation.
That is inevitable. From this viewpoint, Ivan Narodny,
in a philosophical chapter in his History of the Dance,
writes: "The future of the art of dancing belongs to
America, the country of cosmic ideals. The past be-
longs to the aristocratic ideals, in which the Russian
ballet reached the climax. The French were the found-

Twenty-nine

Different mdividued reactions to the same sense of calamity — one erect as
though petrified, the other crushed by despair; neither imitative, but each
creative.

The Classic Ideal — and Ours

ers of aristocratic choreography; the Russians trans-
formed it into an aristocratic dramatic art ; to the Ameri-
cans belongs the attempt at a democratic school." *

When we realize that expressions of this kind are
evoked by admiration of our achievements toward re-
storing the ancient Greek ideal of dancing we must feel
especially encouraged; for, while our great object is to
add something of permanent value to the beauty and joy
of human life, to have our accomplishment accepted as a
worthy foundation upon which to build an entire art
structure that shall be new and original is the best pos-
sible assurance that we are on a firm footing, and in
accord with the spirit of our time and our country.

We have one most decided advantage over the
time and country of our model; we are near the begin-
ning of our national existence and of our creative im-
pulse, while they, having reached the summit, were
trembling on the verge of decadence. Less than two
centuries later, as Grecian ceramic art shows, the lofty
deities of their pantheon were being forgotten in favor
of the gods of disorder. Aphrodite, in her most carnal
aspect, and vine-wreathed Dionysos were dissipating the
serene dignity and grace wrought by the power of Pallas
Athene, Hermes, Diana. Potter's clay largely sup-

* Narodny's argument on this point proceeds: "The chief character-
istics of the American mind are to condense expressions and ideas into their
shortest forms. This is most evident in the syncopated style of its music, in
its language and in its architecture Like the American ragtime tune, an
American skyscraper is the result of an impressionistic imagination. Both
are crude in their present form, yet they speak a language of an unethno-
graphic race and form the foundation of a new art.

"Instead of having a floating, graceful and, so to speak, a horizontal

Thirty-on«

Children are quick to feel the impulse to rise upon the ball of the foot even
when that limb is sustaining the body's entire weight — one of the principal
requisites of Greek dancing.

The Classic Ideal — and Ours

planted marble as material upon which the record of
human life was graven. The little clay dancing figures
of Tanagra, in the Fourth Century B. C, are charming,
but they tell only too plainly the story of moral and
spiritual degeneration, which, at the beginning of the
Christian era, had placed the Golden Age in total eclipse.

In our country to-day the tendencies are exactly
the reverse. We are rapidly ridding ourselves of our old-
world heritage of drunkenness, profligacy and pharisee-
ism. With respect to drink we are becoming temperate
almost to the point of abstention; over-eating is entirely
out of fashion; many of our wealthiest families set ex-
amples of simple living, discouraging arrogant display,
idleness and class distinctions. All our tendencies are
toward nobler ideals. Psychologically, we are in a most
fortunate position to begin — with our dancing, at least —
where the Arcadians left off.

It would be absurd for us to believe that we are
capable of no more than copying the Arcadians. As a
matter of fact we are temperamentally incapable of slav-
ishly copying from any model. Our ancient Greek
dancing is, and will continue to be, Greek plus American

tendency like the aesthetic images of the Old World, American beauty is
djmamic, impressionistic and denies every tradition. The imderljong
motives of such a tendency are not democratic but cosmic. While a nation-
alistic art is always based upon something traditional, something that
belongs to the past evolution of a race, cosmic art strives to imite the
emotions of all humanity. The task of the latter is much more difficult.
It requires a universal mind to grasp what appeals to the whole world. It
requires a Titanic genius to condense the aesthetic images so that in their
shortest form they may say what the others would in a roundabout way.
This gives to beauty a dynamic vigor and makes it so much more universal
than the art of any age or nation could be."

Thirty-three

The Classic Ideal — and Ours

adaptability and creativeness; human nature has not
stood quite still for twenty-five centuries. Eventually,
upon our serenely pure and beautiful model we shall be
able to build forms and movements that will make our
dance really our own, and our lives the fuller and happier
because of it.

What gives greater satisfaction than the certainty
of being able always to give true expression to charming
thoughts and swaying emotions? The speaking eye, the
mirror-like, plastic countenance and the gracefully respon-
sive body and limbs, form an instrument of interpretation
capable of imaging forth the subtlest shade of meaning.

When numbers of us together are practising our
variations upon the classic dance methods of interpreting
musical themes, the spectator is apt to marvel at the
diversity of individual expression. There are no hack-
neyed movements ; in each individual case the response of
the living interpretative instrument is original and spon-
taneous. And the familiar spectator's wonder turns to
amazement on observing that however individual is each
separate interpretation, all, nevertheless, are fused spon-
taneously into one mass interpretation that is far more
aesthetic and truthful than is possible by means of arti-
ficial, prearranged figures, as in the conventional ballet.

Thirty-four

(E

LOTHES: FASHION'S DIS-
TORTION OF DRAPERIES
WHICH SUFFICE FOR
MODESTY AND COMFORT

r

Graceful swaying of the erect body produced in advancing by a slight cross-
ing of the feet, with uplifted arms in harmonious management of draperies.

II

The Tyranny of Clothes

^•^♦OR more than twenty centuries dancing has suf-
^|1 fered martyrdon to clothes. Clothes, as distin-
guished from robes, draperies sufficient for mod-
esty and comfort, are an arbitrary, artificial creation
expressing only vanity and defying nearly every attribute
of nature and beauty. Worse yet, when we reflect we
realize that Fashion, the modern Goddess, has undone
all that was accomplished by the Olympian Goddess of
Health — compressing and distorting the body and inter-
fering disastrously with the important functions of the
skin. Nature, in clothing the lower animals never has
done this ; even her work of ornamentation has ever been
harmless from the health standpoint; nor can it be
charged to vanity, for we know that the gorgeous tail of
the peacock and the majestic mane of the lion serve the
single purpose of attracting the female.

History shows us quite plainly that the ideal of
human vigor and grace reached its zenith in Greece in the
Fifth Century B. C. The sculptured remains of that pe-

Thirty-aeven

Example of a very young dancer unconsciously coordinating movements of
arms and torso with remarkably true and forceful expression of countenance.

The Tyranny of Clothes

riod prove to us that clothes had not yet been invented.
That is one of several reasons why Greek sculpture of the
Fifth Century remains unsurpassed. We have only to
compare any figure of a Parthenon frieze with the best
sculptured representation of human activity in our own
time to be instantly aware of the woful decadence not
only of vigor and grace, but of beauty ; and to be able to
fix the whole responsibility upon clothes. All competent
sculptors, painters and critics agree upon this: "Nothing
is more characteristic of the Greeks, nothing better illus-
trates their quickness to seize on the profound beauty
which may transfigure common and familiar things, than
their use of drapery. In drapery the sculptor saw not
merely the appropriate clothing of the model, to be dis-
posed as gracefully and tellingly as possible, but a ma-
terial out of which he might weave a web of magical
beauty, responsive to the activity of repose of the figure,
and forming an emotional commentary on its attitude
or movement. It was a filmy envelope enabling him to
reveal the form in its structural meaning and beauty of
line, and, again, to lose it in simple spaces or behind vig-
orous folds of the gathered material. Thus it supplied
his art with an element of mystery, and gave him a new
power of leading the eye of the spectator along an en-
chanting course of expectation and surprise." *

Those were the draperies ordinarily worn by the
Greeks, and in which they danced. We, in our restora-

* Quoted from John Warrack's introduction to "Greek Sculpture."

Thirty-nine

The perfection of self-consciousness wholly obliterated. Although suddenly
and completely undraped, the child's reaction to the emotion of expectant
wonder is absolute.

The Tyranny of Clothes

tion of the Greek dance, model all our draperies upon
them. Athenaeus, most faithful chronicler of Greek so-
cial life, tells us that the early sculpture is "a record of
dancing." We are, therefore, not only restoring Greek
dancing but translating the noblest sculpture into move-
ment— bringing its most beautiful and charming figures
to life.

The decadence of sculpture and of dancing have
been coincident — and clothes are responsible. Rome
was the original inventor of clothes. Rome fell, but
Fashion went on her way increasingly triumphant, thriv-
ing even in the Dark Ages when humanity touched the
bottom of spiritual and moral degradation. Fashion,
clothes, seized upon the Renaissance, imposing her glit-
tering artifices and thus obstructing the way to a restora-
tion of true beauty and vigor. The Eighteenth Century
witnessed the apotheosis of Fashion — which the French
Revolution obscured but failed to transform into a Cal-
vary. The train of the wedding dress of Frederick the
Great's daughter "was borne by six maids of honor, who,
on account of the great weight of the precious stones
with which it was garnished, had two pages to assist
them. The total weight of the bridal attire is said to
have been nearly a hundred pounds." *

Fashion's hold upon the men was not less firm.
Madame de Sevigne tells of the wedding toilet of the
Prince de Conde : "The whole court was witness of the

* Grace Rhys, in Modes and Manners of the Nineteenth Century.

Forty-one

A playful Spring movement — flowers and ribbons, and lightness of move-
ment which seems ahnost to defy the force of gravitation. The small
Tanagra figures suggest the same spirit.

The Tyranny of Clothes

ceremony, and Madame de Langeron, seizing the mo-
ment when he had his paws crossed like a lion, slipped
upon him a waistcoat with diamond buttons. A valet
de chambre frizzed him, powdered him. His suit was in-
estimably lovely; it was embroidered in very large dia-
monds, following the lines of a black pattern on a straw-
colored velvet ground." Etc., etc.

Both sexes were corseted to the point of suffoca-
tion. Dancing? Clothes pretended to dance — their
wearers couldn't; in the American slang of to-day, they
were dead from the hips up — yes, and ought to have
been buried all over!

We are now not much better off. Fashion still has
us in her grip. That grip is somewhat relaxed, however,
and it is to be hoped that our restoration of dancing as it
is embalmed in Greek sculpture will apply the coup de
grace, with adequate and beautiful draperies forever sup-
planting clothes.

In this connection one thing is always to be re-
membered : The scantiest of draperies are more modest
than any clothes. Clothes are suggestive, and impure
thoughts provoke impure manners. All our dancing
modeled upon the Greek effects an illusion of absolute
beauty so profound that bareness of feet and limbs occa-
sionally escaping their drapings makes no separate appeal
of any kind. As for clothes, it will be sufficient to quote
Herrick, amorous poet of clothes' most triumphant pe-
riod:

Forty-three

The graceful management of draperies is an important requisite in Greek
dancing. When the robe is voluminous, as in this instance, its manipulation
demands considerable skill.

The Tyranny of Clothes

A sweet disorder in the dress
Kindles in clothes a wantonness.
A winning wave, deserving note,
In the tempestuous petticoat;
A careless shoestring, in whose tie
I see a wild civility, —
Do more bewitch me than when art
Is too precise in every part.

We have, fortunately, from other sources unques-
tioned authority to support our contention from the
dancer's viewpoint that the tyranny of clothes, of fash-
ion, amounts to a denial of our vaunted Twentieth Cen-
tury civilization. From nearly every other form of
tyranny we have escaped. Never before was the average
human being throughout the world so nearly free from
autocratic control, or so able to make intelligent per-
sonal use of the fruits of progress in science. Yet, curi-
ously enough, while the whole world is making a fetish
of hygiene, hygiene's arch enemy — the tyrant of conven-
tional clothing — continues to sit securely upon his
throne.

Every properly trained athlete understands the in-
consistency of our use of conventional clothes. All ca-
pable physical instructors are missionaries for radical
clothing reform. One of the most celebrated of these —
Lieutenant Mueller, of the Danish Army — vies with the
most uncompromising Greek dancer in reprobation of
"the garb of civilization." In his "Fresh Air Book" he
writes :

"What beautiful skins the ancient Greeks pos-
sessed, acquired by constant practice, body exercises,

Forty-five

A playful dance interpretation in which the hands and the expression of
countenance are especially impiortant. The small Tanagra figure portrays
much the same spirit in different action.

The Tyranny of Clothes

which they performed without clothes in the open air,
under a blazing sun! Their skins were of a golden-
brown color, like bronze, and were as soft as velvet, but at
the same time quite inured to all climatic conditions.
That the skin is so inured does not mean that it is hard,
but rather that it possesses the faculty of transmitting
the warmth and coolness, dryness and moisture, and the
different chemical and electric influences, so that these,
instead of harming or weakening the body, invigorate
and preserve its vitality. While the skin of the palms
of the hands and the soles of the feet becomes hard and
corny through constant use, the skin of the rest of the
body has this entirely opposite peculiarity, that the more
it is rubbed and exposed to the sun and the wind the
softer it becomes. We who live in northern cities can
make our skins as healthy and fine as those of the old
Greeks, if we only do, as they did." *

We are entitled to remark here that we who dance
as dancing ought to be, in this sense at least, actually do
as the old Greeks did. Our heads and feet are bare ; our

* In the same book Lieutenant Mueller presents these pertinent phys-
ological facts: "Being naked, with a goodly current of cold or dry air play-
ing on the body, the exudation from the pores does not always take the form
of sweat, but sometimes that of gas. This kind of steam can be easily
observed by standing in the bright sunshine on a cold day, and watching
the outline of one's own figure, when little waves of shadow, like the
dancing hot air above a flame, will be seen to rise upward quickly and con-
tinually. The skin is seen exhaling carbolic acid, steam, and a number of
other poisonous matters, while it absorbs in the meantime the oxygen of
the air. Everybody will understand that any check to this respiration of
the skin, by diet or by thick apparel, prevents the free exchange of poison-
ous for pure gases, and, therefore, is injurious to health. It also proves that
a skin that can breathe freely through its pores, and is accustomed to air-
baths, and other kinds of gymnastics for the skin, has special faculties for
cleansing and improving tlie blood, and healthy blood lays the foundation
of a vigorous and fatigue-resisting organism."

Forty-seven

Here the dancer, erect and recumbent, realizes in living movement the classic
sculptor's sense of the aesthetic value of simple draperies.

N

The Tyranny of Clothes

bodies and limbs are draped only for modesty and grace;
our skins are soft, healthy and fine. If we fall short of
their state of physical perfection, doubtless the cause
lies in the number of hours out of the twenty-four during
which the social conventions of ordinary life compel us
to confine and burden our bodies with unnecessary and
unhygienic clothing.

Fashion, in modern times, is responsible for the
worst possible crime against health and grace in its
tyrannical treatment of our feet. The natural human foot
not only is beautifully formed but is a marvel of strength
and elasticity. It easily bears up the whole weight of
the body, while, in the exercise of walking and running,
the feet perform more work than any other member.
Their structure is necessarily complex — a finely organ-
ized, shapely, mass of jointed bones, powerful muscles,
ligaments, tendons, and sensitive nerves, with a circula-
tory system which depends for its efficiency upon free-
dom of movement of every part. Given this advantage,
the ordinary exercise of the feet in bearing up the whole
body and carrying it about from place to place maintains
them in a state of symmetry and health. Dancing nat-
urally in the bare feet, as we do, contributes such extra
vitality that the entire body benefits.

Whatever confines and burdens our bodies, pre-
venting the natural movements of our limbs and inclining
us from that proudly upright position which distin-
guishes us most obviously from the lower animals, tends

Forty-nine

The Tyranny of Clothes

to limit the attribute of spirituality which we share with
divinity. In our conventional harness of clothes we are
not much better off than the poet's "man with a hoe,"
aptly described as, "brother to the ox." When in that
harness one's gaze droops from the sky to the earth; he
cannot escape his sense of being earth-born; spiritual
ideals fade away, crowded out by gross materiality.

Unburdened by any such harness, the Greek
dancer seems to deny for herself more than a casual and
convenient connection with the earth. Her bare feet do
not sink into it under the weight of her body. Indeed,
her body appears to have no weight. Her feet lightly
spurn the earth and her body soars. She is more of the
air than of the earth — not only in appearance to the ordi-
nary observer but in her own sense of delightful buoy-
ancy. She is realizing in her conscious hours that famil-
iar dream sensation of freedom from the earth's attrac-
tion in which the body seems to float through the atmos-
phere propelled by an occasional slight thrust of the foot
against the ground. The almost universal experience of
this soaring dream sensation seems to bear out the theory
that dreams, in their fantastic way, fulfil, and are actu-
ated by, desires of the conscious being; for, what human
desire is more nearly universal than the desire for com-
plete personal independence, of which independence of
the earth's support would represent its most perfect real-
ization?

Fifty

or

LASSIC SCULPTURE: THE
IMPERISHABLE IDEAL EM-
BODIMENT OF THOUGHT
AND EMOTION

Caryatid of the Erechtheum (British Museum). The sculptured classic
Greek ideal of serene poise and balance of the whole figure. Note that
nearly the entire weight of the body Jind its burden is borne on one foot.

Ill

Our Debt to Classic Sculpture

^'5^'ARLY Greek sculpture, wrote Athenaeus, is a
T ^ record of dancing. Even at this distance of twen-
ty-five centuries, with only remnants of the record
preserved to us, we discern truth in the statement and
can understand the cause that went before the fact. The
Greeks adored the human form, and most of all in grace-
ful and vigorous action. Their dancing, more than any
other motive for physical expression, combined these
qualities. It did more than that. Lucian writes: "In
this art the functions of mind and body are united. It
exercises the limbs and at the same time employs the
understanding ; for in it nothing is done without wisdom
and reason." Referring to emotional interpretations in
the Greek dance, Xenophon says : "Nothing of the body
should be idle; the neck, limbs and hands must all be
made use of." When Demetrius witnessed a dancer,
without any musical accompaniment, represent one of
the old myths of the gods he cried out : "I not only see
all you do, but even hear it also ; for your hands seem to
speak to me !"

Fifty-three

Classic perfection of repose, with one limb bearing the body's weight while
the other, with the knee flexed, preserves balance, is one of the Greek
dancer's earliest achievements.

Our Debt to Classic Sculpture

Dimly, perhaps, but still plainly enough to con-
vince us of their truth, all these testimonies are corrob-
orated in what is preserved to us of the sculpture of that
period. We who are earnest in our efforts to replace
dancing upon its ancient foundation of truth and beauty
should therefore give constant study to the sculptures
which so faithfully portray it. A modern close student
of the subject — John Warrack — has well written: "It
would be difficult to overestimate the value of dancing
of so highly intellectualized a type in educating a nation
in the elements of sculpture. The dancer had to repro-
duce, with little if any external aid, the whole range of
human thought and feeling in terms of bodily gesture
and movement, and his art was closely followed and criti-
cized by a crowd of keenly discriminating spectators, who
condemned any departure from the severest artistic
seemliness and restraint. His physical conformation,
his fairness of proportion and his condition had to come
up to the most exacting standards. The art of rythmic
balance and that perfect co-operation of the muscles
which results in graceful and harmonious movements
had to be studied and acquired under masters versed in
the Greek tradition. And all this beauty of form and
movement was to be, not an end in itself, but a medium
through which an intellectual and poetic appreciation of
Greek legend was to find expression."

Nothing tangible which now exists upon the face
of the earth except the sculpture of the age of Myron,

Fifty-five

A most charming unstudied attitude enhanced by the simple drapery effect.
The figure is an early Roman copy of a classic Greek original, from the
Giustiniani Collection.

\

Our Debt to Classic Sculpture

Phidias and Polyclitus can interpret for us the passion-
ate and exalted sense of the beauty of form which was
the heart of the life of the ancient Greeks. It is a beauty
realized by no other people, before or since. It "has an
immortal virtue, a flame-like efficacy for the spirit, which
cold erudition cannot supply"; and if that flame be but
once kindled it is inevitable that we should be led straight
back to those who knew what they sought. They sought
and found tranquillity, without which there is no beauty ;
and, learning to feel it, they were able to reproduce it in
marble — an inheritance for us, who feel tranquillity so
slightly and so sorely need its inspiration ! So we know
that man once, in one country and one period, was con-
fident, undismayed, always equal to his task. "Even in
the scenes of combat so frequent on pediment or frieze,
he gives or receives the death-wound with the same gal-
lant grace, neither arrogant in victory nor dishonest by
defeat."

Although these priceless sculptures are not acces-
sible to the average student, photographs of them are
widely distributed. These indicate at once "how tran-
quil and unoppressed by their burden are the Caryatids
of the Erechtheum, those serene maidens who bear on
their heads the solid marble entablature!" Warrack is
writing here, and what he writes is food for thought for
every dancer: "The perfection of repose which char-
acterizes most of the free single-figure statues which
have come down to us is even more striking. We may

Fifty-seven

Bearing the bowl of wine — attitude, countenance, position of the other hand
and arm, all express the spirit that goes with the conception of the vintage.

Our Debt to Classic Sculpture

almost reduce its secret to a formula. Unlike modern
work, where, especially among northern races, the weight
is apt to be borne by both feet, thus suggesting a dis-
turbance of balance, if not actual motion, the Greek fig-
ure is supported by one only, while the other limb is re-
laxed, and the foot merely rests on the ground to secure
stability.* One hip thus drops lower than the other, and
this is balanced by an opposite inclination of the line of
the two shoulders. If the right hip is up, the right
shoulder is down; if the left hip rises, the left shoulder
falls. As a natural sequel, the line of the knees follows
that of the hips, while the ankles tend to revert to the
line of the shoulders."

Without due recognition of these principles no
dancer can express tranquillity in beauty. Having mas-
tered them, she, or he, will naturally co-ordinate the re-
lations of the lines of the shoulders, the hips, the knees,
and the ankles respectively as to their backward or for-
ward inclination in a horizontal plane. Analyses of this
sort will lead the dancer far towards the appreciation of
the subtilities of Greek balance, acquired in practice of
the dance and recorded in sculpture.

Among the sculptures, of which replicas and pho-
tographs are accessible to everybody and which are use-

* It will be observed that throughout the text of these essays dealing
with the fundamentals of the art which she teaches as well as practices,
the author exercises a restraint quite out of the ordinary. Here, for ex-
ample, she chooses to quote an art critic on a principle of technique which
is demonstrated in the work of her youngest pupils trained in the New
York City Temple of her school, or in its sylvan summer annex, "Wood
Nymphs." It may interest the reader, by way of illustration, to compare
the Caryatid reproduced for the frontispiece of this section with the figure
of the young pupil in the plate next following. — Ed.

Fifty-nine

The undraped torso of every dancer who is faithful to the classic model
exhibits this hygienic raising of the chest which reduces the abdomen by
sustaining the internal org2tns in their proper position.

Our Debt to Classic Sculpture

ful for the constant study of dancers, are: Venus of
Melos (Louvre) ; Antinous (Vatican, Rome) ; Dance of
Nymphs in a Grotto of Pan (British Museum, from Ath-
ens) ; Marble Relief of a Dancer (Kgl. Museum, Berlin) ;
Orpheus, Eurydice, and Hermes (Naples) ; Phigaleian
Frieze or Greeks and Amazons (British Museum) ; Vic-
tory Binding Sandal (Acropolis Museum, Athens).

At this point it seems desirable to define a bound-
ary beyond which our study of classic Greek sculpture
ceases to be useful in aiding us to restore the spirit of
dancing of that period. As we do not rely for our
achievement upon any system of mechanical technique,
the real value of the influence exerted by these sculptures
ends where it has succeeded in transporting us, in our
minds and emotions, back to Arcady. When we can
mentally visualize Greece in her Golden Age, and have
entered into the spirit which made the Arcadians what
they were, then we can go on and freely express our-
selves as they did ; and, upon that foundation, proceed to
adapt and originate in accordance with our native gifts
and the added inpulses belonging to our own age.

Our first object is to recreate and reinhabit Arcady,
because we need a definite ideal that satisfies our aesthet-
ic sense. Where has there existed another such ideal?
Nowhere in the Orient in any period, for the reason that
the Oriental mind and ours are at opposite poles. Our
sagas of the West do not reveal anything of the kind, for
in their heroes and heroines the essential quality of

8ixty-on«

Votive incense, as from a novice to the Priestess of the Temple — an attitude
of graceful humility combined with pride in serving.

Our Debt to Classic Sculpture

serenity was wholly absent. Our fairy lore deals with
the supernatural, the fantastic, and therefore helps us
not at all. Only Arcady and the Arcadians supply what
we lack, and their sculpture marks the only sure road
leading back to them.

It is well known that others have been before us
in this conclusion. It is equally apparent that something
is lacking in what they have built upon that substructure.
Upon analysis it appears that they have seized upon the
essential elements, but that instead of assimilating and
adapting them in a way consistent with practical as well
as aesthetic usefulness in our modern world, they adhere
rigidly to the unanimated fixed forms of a dead civiliza-
tion.

For example, one very conscientious student of
classic Greek sculpture and its literature confesses her
inability to do satisfactory work amid the material dis-
tractions of the bustling New World; but place her feet
on the modern soil (for soil remains no more old than
does the air) of ancient Greece and her inspiration soars.
To be able daily to contemplate the ruins of the Parthe-
non is to find that inspiration daily renewed. She feels
herself to be, in fact, one of those favored dancers who
was patronized by Aspasia, whose movements were imi-
tated by the thoughtful Socrates for the good of his
health, and who, perhaps, danced as a model for the great
Phidias. She is not of this age at all. She belongs to
the past, in which she dwells as a shadow and whose

Sixty-three

A sudden rcEilization of calamity does not always, as in the case of grief,
have a crushing effect upon the body — as this living semblance to sculpture
indicates in its upward and backward thrust of torso, arms and head.

Our Debt to Classic Sculpture

spirit she has not the power to restore as a living thing
for the benefit of the multitudes who are able to dwell
only in the present.

Another fixes her attention upon a sculptured joint
or swelling muscle and extracts therefrom a new Prin-
ciple in which is centered the secret of the True Art of
Dancing as revealed by herself! "The secret consists in
a condition of the muscles totally different from any real-
ized by athletes since the time of the Greeks, a condition
of Tension, which transforms dead weight into a living
force, and which made the Greek as different from the
modern human being as a stretched rubber band differs
from a slack one. Ah, "tension," that long lost secret,
which our modern athletes know nothing about! Yet
you can't pick up a pin from the floor without muscular
tension. Did you ever observe on the "gridiron" a Yale
"Centre Rush" "set" himself to withstand the enemy's
catapulting onslaught? That is muscular tension pure
and simple. And two modern sciences — Anthropology
and Archaeology — have long since disproved the senti-
mental theory that, except in manners and customs, the
man of twenty-five, or even fifty, centuries ago differed
from the man of to-day. The advantage, if any, is in
favor of the Twentieth Century man. It should be suf-
ficient to remind the reader that the distance covered by
the classic Marathon runner — who, on delivering his mes-
sage, dropped dead from exhaustion — is recorded, and
that quite a number of our own modern "Marathon rac-

8ixty-five

Our Debt to Classic Sculpture

ers" have exceeded it without suffering any ill conse-
quences.

It is characteristic for novices in art to be over-
enthusiastic and to misconstrue the meagre records of
times long past. Not long ago one ingenuous dancer
secured wide publicity of her "discovery" that the secret
of graceful and intelligent physical expression had been
revealed to her in familiar bas relief effigies on ancient
Egyptian coins and mummy cases — those grotesque pro-
files of hatchet faces and bodies all angles and sharp el-
bows. All one had to do in order to become the re-
generator of dancing was faithfully to copy the lines and
angles of those Egyptian effigies — which exhibited the
old Egyptians as they really were, going about their
business affairs and ceremonies ! It is sufficient to men-
tion the established historical fact that it was forbidden
by the all-powerful priests under those dynasties to por-
tray the human face or figure ; all their painters and sculp-
tors were permitted to do was to indicate them in profile
with the stiff conventionality with which archaeology
has made us familiar.

It is for us to avoid misconceptions of that kind.
Doubtless they are made and promulgated in good faith,
but ignorance is hardly the proper preparation for any-
one who assumes the functions of a teacher. There is
nothing mysterious or enigmatic about classic Greek
sculpture. It speaks for itself, and its last word, after
ideal beauty, is Truth.

Sixty-six

ii

USIC: TWIN SISTER OF
THE DANCE, SHARING ON
EQUAL TERMS CREATION
AND INTERPRETATION

1

A child dancer's spontaneous interpretation of music whose Spring-like
character produces the reaction indicated — of being gently and lightly wafted
along upon a breeze.

IV

Music: Twin Sister of the Dance

m

'ITH respect to our restoration and modern de-
velopment of the classic Greek dance, the case
of music is very different from that of sculpture.
It is different from any other viewpoint. The complete
and symmetrical structure of the science and art of music
which we in these times possess is a modern creation,
compared with which the music of even the most en-
lightened peoples in the Fifth Century B. C. was like a
charming little embowered Temple of Artemis placed
beside the Cathedral of St. Marks in Venice. Yet the
music of the ancient Greeks, ingenuous and undeveloped
though it was, held fundamental truth and beauty that
made of it the worthy twin sister of their dance. The
development of poetry and oratory was on a par with that
of sculpture, and from music those arts borrowed their
perfect and varied rhythms, their effective cadences and
their exalted mental images. Much of their poetry is
preserved to us, and from it we learn how exquisite was
their sense of rhythm. Their dancing and their acting —

8ixty-n\n«

Depicting the idea of the arrow's flight — in the dance a quick movement of
the foot indicates the release of the bowstring; sharp, quick, decisive action.

Music: Twin Sister of the Dance

their lyrical and dramatic representations — were com-
bined in a single art, both designated by one Greek word.
The dancer, without the aid of words, was expected to
utilize all his powers of physical expression, all his mime-
tic ability, in portrayals from the epics and legends of
his time ; and often without the support of music in any
form.

Music did not then, nor does it even now, possess
any value as a medium for the expression of concrete
ideas or images associated with nature or with the activi-
ties of human life. The naive notion is long since ex-
ploded that music is capable of definitely depicting the
beauties of a summer sunrise or the horrors of a battle-
field. That old fallacy was due to a misconception of
the nature of the mental stimulus provided by manifes-
tations of an art whose direct appeal is to the emotions
only — and to the suggestion contained in the absurd
statements formerly printed in concert programmes
that such a number described a sunrise and such another
number the battle of Austerlitz. Reading the pro-
gramme, and while under the emotional influences of the
music, no room was left for doubt !

But music does, always has and always will, more
than any other single influence, perform the invaluable
service of obliterating consciousness of self. The sum
total of all the other inhibitions that stand in the way of
truthful and convincing expression of mind or emotion
do not equal the handicap of dominant self-conscious-

Seventy-one

Showing the facility with which children form impromptu ensembles, as
when music calls for a combination of individual interpretations.

Music: Twin Sister of the Dance

ness. It turns the mind inward upon itself, upon the
body, the hands, the feet, the dress, evoking vanity or
paralyzing with doubts and trepidations; the free mind
that had the universe for its field of contemplation, and
was capable of solving every finite problem, is enslaved
to its unimportant envelope and can express nothing but
inefficiency.

Good music almost instantly sets the mind free
through its powerful action upon the emotions which be-
long to the sub-consciousness, the naked, potent ego con-
stituting the real man or woman. Having accomplished
this first essential, it marvellously stimulates the faculty
of imagination. The mind leaps toward its ideal and
its processes are clarified and quickened. Even the sim-
ple melodies played upon the primitive flute and the reed
pipes of the Arcadians possessed these powers, for those
melodies always contained rhythm and form; and it is
rhythm and form more than harmony and color which,
from the beginning, has bound music, poetry and danc-
ing together in a union that is indissoluble.

For these reasons we should avail ourselves of
every opportunity to listen to good music. We possess
it in a volume so vast, with such enormous advantages
of interpretation upon our perfected instruments and by
the symphony orchestra, supplemented by widely dis-
tributed mechanical interpretations accessible to every-
body, that music literally is almost as free as the air we
breathe.

Seventy-three

Drigo's Serenade — showing how modem music of this character inspires the
creation of dance movements and figures adapted from the purest Greek
models. The beginning of the interpretation is shown in the small plate.

Music: Twin Sister of the Dance

Good music declares itself, not only in its whole-
some appeal to the emotions but in the constructive men-
tal stimulus it provides. Tempted by the very perfec-
tions of the modern orchestra, certain composers with
the noblest creations standing to their credit have ex-
hibited decadent tendencies which have unfortunately
become fashionable with the dillitante. In striving for
new color combinations and startling effects they have
sacrificed rhythm, the very quality necessary to keep mu-
sic sane and truly beautiful. The result is confusion to
the senses and debilitating to the mind. It was the phil-
osopher Nietzsche's discovery of this crime against
music which influenced him to recant much of his years-
long public praise of Wagner — after a single evening
spent under the spell of the exquisite and varied rhythms
of Bizet. Latterly Wagner had paralyzed his reasoning
faculties ; he declared that Bizet's rhythms and pure melo-
dies instantly resuscitated his constructive powers.

In our modern adaptation of the ancient Greek
ideal in dancing, music supplies us with never-failing
sources of inspiration. It opens our natures to percep-
tion of the beautiful, enriches our faculty of imagery,
compels movements of grace and meaning, molds our
bodies into expressions of its own forms of beauty upon
which our chastened conscious minds play with all the
virtuosity we can command.

By way of fair exchange, consider what we give to
music. The greatest composers have turned to the con-

Seventy-five

Children in spontaneous reaction to the influence of a single chord of music,
yet instinctively fusing their interpretations into a harmonious whole.

Music: Twin Sister of the Dance

ventional, artificial ballet for themes and inspiration.
There exists a large volume of music thus conceived, and
through it all you seem to see pirouettes on painfully
pointed toes, rigidly corseted waists and meaningless
mechanical smiles. The music created under the influ-
ence of our dancing, the volume of which is steadily in-
creasing, reveals no such ugly skeletons; it is as graceful
and charming and spontaneous as are the gracious qual-
ities of Nature herself.

Right here it seems well to point out, in its relation
to classic dancing, a discovery about music which we
have applied with the happiest results — results which are
fundamental in their value, and which the minutiae of an
arbitrary and rigid technique are powerless to produce.
Reverting to the extraordinary power of good music in
freeing and developing the subconsciousness, we wish
now to go a step farther and declare that in its influence
upon physical expression the unimpeded operation of the
subconsciousness will produce instinctive postures, ges-
tures and naturally graceful movements which not only
clearly and adequately express the mood and embody the
mental image but more than equal the effects of the high-
est art based upon a mechanical technique. It is obvious
that this must be so, for the reason that the eurythmics
of the ancient Greeks were developed by just this means.
Their natures were open not alone to the influence of
music but to every element of beauty entering into their
lives. All these elements united to lend beauty to their

Seventy-seven

Impromptu crisp, dainty, capricious reaction of a very young dancer to a
pizzacato movement of the orchestra — hardly to be improved by repeated
practise.

Music: Twin Sister of the Dance

bodies and their minds. Eurythmics became the tech-
nical basis of their art of dancing, but the source was the
beautiful in nature and not the mechanics, the mathemat-
ics, of a technical art.

We ourselves do not rely wholly upon music for
the purpose indicated. Serene contemplation of a
charming landscape, of white clouds floating under a tur-
quoise sky, of flowers, of trees, of shady groves beside
rippling streams, the same as with the Arcadians, will
obliterate consciousness of self and liberate the real un-
derstanding and creative ego. It is simply that music
is the most complete, most accessible single influence of
this sort of which we have any knowledge — besides the
constant usefulness of its definite rhythms and image-
producing character.

The most distinguished and successful modern at-
tempt to combine these principles with technical train-
ing of mind and body is represented in the Eurythmics
of Jaques-Dalcroze. We must admire and esteem the
achievements of this great genius among educators, even
if we do not agree that his methods with respect to danc-
ing are an improvement upon our own, for his system is
applied most happily to education in a larger field. Pri-
marily, Jaques-Dalcroze is a musician and composer.
He is a teacher by grace of his discovery that physical
action marked and governed by the rhythms of music
stimulated a deeper mental grasp of various subjects than
could be gained in the usual ways. Of his philosophy

Both of these Bacchante figures exhibit original interpretations in which
beauty of line is sustained in connection with appropriate gestures and facial
expression.

Music: Twin Sister of the Dance

Professor M. E. Sadler, of the University of Leeds,
writes :

"The system of exercises known as Rhythmic gym-
nastics is based upon two ideas, (i) time is shown by
movements of the arms, (2) time-values — note-duration
— by movements of the feet and body. In the early
stages of the training this principle is clearly observed,
later it may be varied in many ingenious ways, for in-
stance in what is known as plastic counterpoint, where
the actual notes played are represented by movements of
the arms, while the counterpoint in crotchets, quavers or
semi-quavers, is given by the feet. . . . When the move-
ments corresponding to the notes from the crotchet to
the whole note of twelve beats have, with all their de-
tails, become a habit, the pupil need only make them
mentally, contenting himself with one step forward.
This step will have the exact length of the whole note,
which will be mentally analyzed into its various ele-
ments. Although these elements are not individually
performed by the body, their images and the innerva-
tions suggested by those images take the place of the
movements. . . . The whole training aims at developing
the power of rapid physical reaction to mental impres-
sions." *

* FiJl justice to the Jacques-Dalcroze system seems to call for this
additional quotation from the same writer: "Another part of the work is to
teach the pupils to express the type of music that is being played; this is
technically known as 'Plastic expression.' The alphabet of this consists of
twenty gestures with the arms, which can be done in many various com-
binations and in various positions, and by means of these any kind of
emotion can be expressed."

Eighty-one

Music: Twin Sister of the Dance

We may perceive from the foregoing that the
Jaques-Dalcroze system is useful both in making sound
musicians and in teaching rhythmical physical expres-
sion; but it is apparent that the advantage is much
greater in the former than in the latter case — as, indeed,
is intended. For the musician, the composer, an elabo-
rate technique is essential. They are concerned with
something that does not exist in nature ; they are creators
through the medium of an art having mathematical val-
ues for its foundation, and the ingredients for whose fin-
ished and compelling charm are always calculated.
They interpret, too, but not as we do ; their instruments
— except the human voice — are purely mechanical, while
we know and play upon but one — our sentient human
body, within which the soul and the mind dwell, enliven-
ing and actuating all its movements and expressions.

We dance in time to the rhythms of the music which
inspire our interpretations ; but music, above all, relaxes
mind, muscles and nerves, enabling them to receive and
physically express the images of beauty and grace which
it so mysteriously evokes. Listening to music makes us
superior to the needs of an elaborate mechanical tech-
nique.

Eighty-two

?i

EALTH: THE PRICELESS
RESULT OF REGULAR AND
AGREEABLE EXERCISE OF
MIND AND BODY

1

A creative adaptation upon the classic Greek model which suggests achieve-
ment of the cloud-veiled summit of that ideal.

Our Contribution to Health

^^/T is mainly from those cherished relics — single
^1 figures, groups, and friezes for the embellishment

of Hellenic architecture — that we gain the knowl-
edge which enables us to reconstruct the classic Greek
dance, and to convince ourselves that it, as well, has
never been excelled. In this task — which is literally a
labor of love — we see more and more clearly that we are
pursuing the highest hygienic ideal. The spirit of
Health breathes in every inspiration and movement of
the Greek Dance. But for the anachronism of associat-
ing one of the later deities with one of the original Greek
pantheon we should be justified in the impression that
Terpsichore, Goddess of the Dance, enjoyed the full con-
fidence and counsel of Hygeia, Goddess of Health.

Happily, here we are in direct accord with the
most advanced modern science. It is an axiom of physi-
ology that rational — that is enjoyable, pleasurable — ex-
ercise of mind and body is the only single thing that can
be depended upon to promote and maintain the condition

Eighty-five

The ocean beach, upon which the surf rolls rhythmically, or is broken upon
half submerged rocks, incites to the most open free and vital dancing
expression.

Our Contribution to Health

of health. In the face of such a direct and simple
method, what an extraordinary waste of time and energy
is comprehended in the complicated structure of rules
and regulations prescribed by Science for hygienic liv-
ing! The chemistry of food, the balanced ration — so
much protein in such ratio with carbohydrate, and so on,
and so on; the intricacies of digestion and metabolism;
in short, the elaborately worked out assumption that our
poor finite minds are capable both of understanding and
directing the operations of the most marvellous of labora-
tories. Nature's own — what a monument to squandered
intelligence ! All we have to do is to keep our minds and
bodies normal by a natural way of living ; Nature can be
trusted to carry on her own processes. Regular and suf-
ficient exercise in the open air maintains the efficiency of
those processes. Normal appetite is the instinct which
selects needful food and limits the amount consumed.
Overeating is the result, as well as a cause, of lack of
health. With natural living, needful sleep and bathing
and clothing are secured instinctively. Rational exer-
cise simply and agreeably solves the whole problem of
health.

Of all systems of health-giving exercise, dancing
as it ought to be is, from every viewpoint, the most de-
sirable. We have endeavored to show that this means
dancing developed from the Greek model. It is signifi-
cant that the draperies of most of the sculptured Greek
dancers seem blown by the wind. We have many rea-

Eighty-seven

Reacting to the breath of Spring — the most compelling of all impulses to
dance, and provocative of the most joyous physical expression.

Our Contribution to Health

sons for believing that dancing in its classic purity was
nearly always in that temple roofed by the blue sky and
floored by the green earth, decorated with living strccuns
and shady groves. Here the first attribute of health
was assured — serenity of mind. The Greek passion for
the beauty of symmetry eliminated all forms of exercise
calculated to develop one part of the body at the expense
of the others. They adored strength, but abhorred
muscle in disproportion. Strength with grace was their
ideal, and this they gained with the greatest certainty
through the rhythmical movements of their dance.

In our revival of dancing in its purest form we find
all these theories amply borne out. Although we have
not, at least in the same degree, the serene repose of mind
and spirit which the ancient Greeks possessed as a heri-
tage, we find that the habitual practice of dancing as
they danced has a happy tendency to overcome any such
deficiency. With our mercurial temperament we are
able to add a certain gayety which, evidently, was not in
their character; but it is, nevertheless, health-inspiring of
itself, while broadening our powers of interpretation.

Not only health, but alertness of mind and general
physical efficiency are the reward of truly beautiful
dancing. Such a dancer walks like a superior being, sur-
rounded by an atmosphere of personal triumph. What-
ever the kind of work she does, it is performed with such
economy of physical effort that her body hardly feels the
poisons of fatigue. Having the soundest of health, she

Eighty-nine

Representing joyous abandonment to an impulse of Nature's gently per-
suasive mood — as of floating forwcird borne upon a Summer breeze.

Our Contribution to Health

is never handicapped by the inhibitions of depressed
spirits. Efficient in dancing as dancing ought to be, and
will be, she is efficient in all else she undertakes — accord-
ing to her natural endowment of ability.

In considering the details which enter into this
health consummation, these are important: The vital
organs of this ideally normal being are not strangled by
corsets laced up to the last notch — any form of stays, in
fact, are prohibited as ridiculous. Toes are not dislo-
cated in efforts to compel them to bear the body's entire
weight; the effect of buoyancy is more effectively pro-
duced by graceful and natural poising of the body upon
the ball of the foot. Neither are the feet, with their axis
a straight line from the attachment of the Achilles ten-
don to the ball of the great toe, forced outward to form a
grotesque right angle to their natural position — a tortur-
ing and injurious strain to the whole extremity to the
height of the knee and a positive menace to the general
health.

Nature designed every part of our bodies for use,
and it is use in a natural manner that sustains health and
vitality. In our revival of the dancing ideal which con-
forms to this law the feet and lower limbs are no more
important than are other members of the body, except
that they bear the burden of the body's weight. The
arms, the hands, the chest, the neck, the head — all are
employed at every moment, and never singly nor arbi-
trarily. The chest is expanded, the droop taken out of

Ninety-one

Arms outstretched, and raised together, in movements which avoid unaes-
thetic angles, even in the energetic action shovvn on the left. The open,
raised bust in the large figure illustrates the hygienic value of adhering to
the heart centre of £dl true physical expression.

Our Contribution to Health

the shoulders; and with the raising of the chest in ex-
pansion the abdomen is automatically drawn in and held
in place by the revitalized and strengthened broad liga-
ment—^and all fatiguing pressure is ^aken off the sensi-
tive lower part of the back, where those delicate and im-
portant organs, the kidneys, are located.

Health: "A sound mind in a sound body." Hy-
geia was its goddess. The more we dwell upon the sub-
ject the more we are inclined to believe that Hygeia must
have been the tutor of Terpsichore, as well as her sister
deity !

In a previous chapter dealing with the unhygienic
tyranny of conventional clothing we have quoted some
admirable conclusions by Lieutenant Mueller, the cele-
brated physical expert of the Danish Army whose advice
and personal training has been sought by many famous
men and women. Perhaps with deeper insight and wider
experience than are manifested by any other living
authority. Lieutenant Mueller seems perfectly to actual-
ize that axiom of Lord Bacon:

"There is wisdom in this beyond the rules of
physic. A man's own observation, what he finds good of
and what he finds hurt of, is the best physic to preserve
health."

Through actual experience he finds "hurt of"
clothes, and he finds healthful "good of" natural exercise
in the open air, even under a blazing sun, to a degree that
makes of medicine a useless invention. Our philosophy

Ninety-three

A gentle and pleasantly expectant expression of aspiration — the lines of the
entire body, arms, neck and head, having an upward tendency.

Our Contribution to Healtk

and practice of dancing are in perfect agreement with the
precepts of this expert. In the way of exercise he gives
running the highest place. We have the best of reasons
to applaud this judgment, inasmuch as Lieutenant Muel-
ler is not a dancer; for is not running an important ele-
ment of all dancing founded upon the classic model?
For health, our exercise of dancing includes his favorite
exercise of running and adds to it not only every possible
natural and graceful movement of the body and limbs but
also the invaluable motive of definite and complete phys-
ical self-expression.

In these days of sim parlors and almost perfect
systems of ventilation, all exercise becomes virtually
open air exercise. In case weather conditions make it
uncomfortable to be out of doors, there is no longer
nardly any excuse for subjecting one's self to the evil
influences of poisonous air.* It is therefore simply igno-
rance and neglect — which doubtless some day will be de-

* Therefore, we, even more than Mueller, are entitled to believe as
he writes: "Fresh air being not only the preventive, but also the cure, of
most diseases, it is surely the most powerful factor in promoting longevity.
There is and always has been a good deal of speculation as to the length
of man's life, as originally intended by Nature, and opinions as to the allotted
span range between eighty and one hundred and forty years. There can be
no doubt that the latter number is more nearly correct. If a man, from
his birth upwards, lived under perfect hygienic conditions, senile decay
could not possibly begin xintil he was nearing an age of one hundred and
fifty years. Evidence in support of this is negative; in the face of the
inexorable law, that every cause has its effect, it cannot be accepted that all
the different hygienic offenses ought not to have any shortening influence
on a man's age. The most common hygienic offense of which we all, with-
out exception, are, or have been, guilty, is that of breathing tainted air.
Here apparently is the chief cause of our too-limited existence. Every tissue
and every nerve has been, therefore, inoculated with some kind of poison,
and has lost entirely its power of resistance and its faculty of existence. . . .
Nietzsche was certainly correct when he declared that the meanness of life
of our present generation, and its lack of ability to live, was attributable
to our 'musty store and cellar air.'"

Ninety-five

All true physical expression has its generative centre in the region of the
heart, the same as the emotions which actuate it. Movements flowing from
any other source are aesthetically futile.

Our Contribution to Health

dared criminal — which accounts for normally born per-
sons missing the joys of life because of easily avoided
insignificant ailments. The whole idea is far from new.
Two centuries ago Dryden wrote :

Better to hunt in fields for health unbought
Than fee the doctor for a nauseous draught.
The wise for cure on exercise depend;
God never made his work for man to mend.

And Thomas Gray, of about the same period, picturing
the healthy man:

From toil he wins his spirits light,
From busy day the peaceful night ;
Rich, from the very want of wealth,
In heaven's best treasures, peace and health.

While Thomson, word-painter of the most exquisite
landscapes that exist in English poetry, might almost be
suspected of being a classic Greek dancer, writing thus :

I care not, Fortvme, what you me deny :
You cannot rob me of free Nature's grace,
You cannot shut the windows of the sky
Through which Aurora shows her brightening face ;
You cannot bar my constant feet to trace
The woods and lawns, by living stream, at eve:
Let health my nerves and finer fibres brace.
And I their toys to the great children leave :
Of fancy, reason, virtue, naught can me bereave.

And, as though to give the subject its final word:

Health is the vital principle of bliss.
And exercise, of health.

The Greek dancer alone, in all the world filled with
people who practise some form of that art either for gain

Ninety-seven

Our Contribution to Health

or for recreation, fully justifies her right to the God-given
upright position. Whatever postures or movements are
demanded in her dancing creations or interpretations, the
intervals, however brief, are always marked by an instant
return to the erect, full-bosomed poise representing aspira-
tion.

This habit of aspiring to the skies tends always to
develop powers of mind and qualities of soul which are the
most potent of all producers of health of body. The
grovelling mind dwells in a flabby, cringing envelope in-
capable of resisting the evils that are ever ready to attack
it, either from within or without. The bodies of the
mentally deficient are always defective. But when the
mind is alert and the spirit uplifted by the joy of physical
participation in any of the aesthetic activities of civilized
existence, continuous health of the normal body — barring
accident — is assured.

We believe that we are warranted in the assertion
that no known means of attaining this ideal condition
equals the dance as we practise it.

Ninety-eight

/^/^-APPINESS: HEALTH PLUS
4|J KNOWING AND LIVING
"^f THE THINGS THAT ARE
SERENELY BEAUTIFUL

A modem Aurora on a misty morning dancing with dew-laden ferns. The
Greek dancer's vital body, though lightly draped, is proof against such slight
discomforts.

VI

Dancing Back to Arcady

ALL that we have stated or quoted thus far bears
directly upon the subject of our dancing. Our
division of the general subject under such heads
as Clothes, Sculpture, Music, Health, is to give emphasis
to the importance of those elements. They are not to be
dissociated from the practice of dancing according to the
classic model. And this brings us to the element which
is chief of them all — Happiness. For, besides being the
greatest desire of humanity, happiness includes all of
Health, much of Music, something of Sculpture, and is
in perpetual warfare with the tyrant, Clothes. In danc-
ing with us, who ignore Fashion for draperies that are
graceful and adequate, you are delivering a mortal blow
at that tyrant while pursuing the direct road to the goal
of happiness. Happiness does not consist merely in be-
ing a spectator ; it is in doing and living the things that
are beautiful. Marcus Aurelius put it this way:

"The happiness and unhappiness of the rational,
social animal depends not on what he feels but on what

One Hundred One

Bacchante. Showing the moment of lustful anticipation of delight in the
intoxicating product of the fruit — as though hardly to be restrained from
seizing and devouring at once.

Dancing Back to Arcady

he does; just as his virtue and vice consist not in feeling
but in doing."

When you dance with us you will "do" something
which will give you a new understanding of at least two
of the choicest gems in the poetry of Keats:

Beauty is truth, truth beauty — that is all
Ye know on earth, and all ye need to know.

And this other:

A thing of beauty is a joy forever;
Its loveliness increases; it will never
Pass into nothingness.

Now poets, of course, are endowed with a very ex-
ceptional capacity for perceiving and knowing beauty.
The majority of human kind are comparatively unde-
veloped in this regard, and their capacity for happiness is
correspondingly restricted. This is mainly because they
do not habitually do and live the things that are beauti-
ful. A fully developed aesthetic sense is not to be gained
by the mere spectator; he must have a consciousness of
participation, and in some way he must express that con-
sciousness. We cannot all be creative geniuses — poets,
sculptors, painters, composers of music ; but all of us who
are normal beings can learn to actively respond to the
influences which they exert, especially the influence of
music.

Young children usually are considered to be sim-
ply "little animals." But watch them in the presence of
some powerful manifestation of beauty. What child

One Hundred Three

An expression of pleasurable relaxation pervading the entire body— a com-
plete reeiction to influences that are pervasive in their sweetness and charm.

Dancing Back to Arcady

does not almost instantly respond, both physically and
psychically, to that masterpiece of Nature, a perfect
morning in June? The small boy tears off the hated
shoes and stockings and races with joyous whoops over
the cool greensward. The little girl shows her longing
to follow him ; she is only restrained by the conventions
with which so many mothers oppress the souls and
bodies of their feminine offspring. But her breast
heaves, her eyes sparkle : she lets herself go to the limit
of the sense of freedom left in her, and now and then
there is one whose actions declare her to be in open re-
volt. She doesn't care ! Let them call her a "tomboy"
if they like ! Off come hei shoes and stockings, her hat,
her apron — every article of clothing she can modestly
dispense with — and away she goes! She is expressing
her sense of beauty and developing her capacity for hap-
piness. And from that cause will spring a contented and
useful woman.*

And music. What normal child ever is seen to as-
sume a detached attitude toward music which conveys

* Here, again, the author omits what her editor considers woidd be
an interesting and valuable personal application. In one of a series of mag-
azine articles bearing her signature she writes: "To tell you how I became
interested in, absorbed by, the Greek dance, it will be necessary for me to
depart briefly from my habit and become personal. I am a western girl
and spent my childhood in the freedom of the western prairies. I shocked
my family and our neighbors by nmning about barefoot. It wasn't a bad
habit, but a very good one. All women would be healthier and more grace-
ful if they bared their feet when in their own homes. I rJin and played
and tiunbled with hunting dogs. They were pointers. How naturally
graceful were all their movements! I have never had to unlearn what they
taught me." The studious reader of the connected essays on classic Greek
dancing which form the text of this book will, perhaps, find in the personal
experience just described sufficient warrant for the author's repeated as-
sertions that cultivation of the impulse to dance is more important and
should precede any effort to acqiure a mechanical technique. — Ed.

One Hundred Five

The race, adapted from the classic Greek games, is useful in dance interpre-
tations combining grace and swiftness of movement. The silhouettes com-
pare fantastic with natural grace of movement.

Dancing Back to Arcady

any sense of rhythm? You see at once that telltale liven-
ing of the eye, a spiritual exaltation reflected in the
countenance, and soon the whole body begins to react to
this special influence of beauty; the child is living that
thing of beauty and creating more beauty — for she is
dancing! In virtually the same way her body and her
soul had reacted, and she had become a component part
of the beauty of that perfect morning in June. Children
are rarely outsiders ; they do and live the things that are
beautiful.

Herein is the lesson: Because the passing of years
oppresses us with the thought that we are no longer
children is not material, so long as we retain health and
a certain amount of vigor; all we have to do is to destroy
consciousness of self — health and vigor, and a restored
receptivity will do the rest.

In our dancing according to the classic model,
which makes of the body an instrument for the expres-
sion of all thought and emotion, there is a fundamental
principle which we call "opening and closing," or "fold-
ing and unfolding." The latter, perhaps, is the more
expressive. At the approach of danger, or when the
emotion is the reverse of pleasurable from any cause, the
body — the whole nature of the dancer — folds inward
upon itself, as though shrinking from or denying the
thing to which it is passively, or even actively antagonis-
tic. If the emotion be pleasurable the body expresses it
in a manner exactly the contrary ; the whole nature, now

One Bundred Seven

Here a young dancer's interpretative impulse is actuated by the motion of
the ocean's waves — an example of the emotions profoundly stirred by man-
ifestations of Nature.

Dancing Back to Arcady

joyously giving or receiving, unfolds — as the petals of a
flower unfold to receive the warmth of the sun and to
give forth the wealth of its perfume. Children, in the
physical expression of their emotions, adhere to this
principle instinctively. That is because they lack self-
consciousness. This statement is proved by the well
known facility children have for play-acting, for inter-
preting characters not their own. The illusion furnished
by their "make believe" is almost perfect, for themselves
as well as for the beholder. Only the born histrionic
genius is more capable of utterly forgetting self. Supe-
riority, in fact, lies on the side of the children, for in the
adult actor, however versatile he may be, the effect is
more apt to be calculated, the result of long-practised
technique, than a consequence of perfect self-sub-
mergence.

This quality of childhood which unites ingenuous-
ness with such natural versatility in portrayal is one that
we cultivate most assiduously in our practice and teach-
ing of dancing. It is our chief aid in realizing the all-
important ideal of getting back to Arcady. If we are
able to "make believe" that we are Arcadians, presto!
to all intents and purposes we are Arcadians, and pro-
ceed to do as the Arcadians did.

The very moment in which that mental transfor-
mation is achieved one enters into possession of a reper-
tory of characterizations the most poetic conceivable and
covering the whole field of idyllic emotion and action.

One Hundred Nine

The idea of Pan inspires the Greek dancer with a charming variety of inter-
pretations of a lyrical, as well as of a sprightly and mischievous, character.

Dancing Back to Arcady

In their greater and lesser deities and the earth-born
children of their gods and goddesses the ancient Greeks
personified every attribute of Nature, every human am-
bition and activity. To them these beings were real, as
actual as themselves. That they were not visible to
mortal eyes served still further to exalt and permanently
establish them, and to increase the potency of the spell
which they exercised over all minds. What an advan-
tage they held, still hold, over the frankly fictitious char-
acters of our modern novels and dramas, the most heroic
or charming of which seem to live for a day, then to grad-
ually fade into the mists of memory !

Those ever-living creations of the classic Greek
poets supplied every variant of interpretative inspiration
of which the ancient Greek dancer felt the need. That
was their task — to impersonate, to interpret the attri-
butes of the immortal heroes and heroines of Olympus
and to portray the lives and deeds of their children of
earthly birth whose names sprinkle the pages of Homer
and Virgil ; and, in lighter vein, to depict the sports and
loves of the humbler, happier creatures of the streams
and woodland glades. That, too, is our most agreeable
and beneficial task. For the advantage of self-sub-
mergence in a series of definite and inspiring characters
cannot be over-estimated, and for us who dance the ideal
characters are these immortal creatures of Arcady.

The moment you enter into the characters of an
ancient Greek Nymph or Naiad, daughter of a River God,

One Himdred Eleven

Woodland interpretation. The ocean-born Aphrodite being adorned by God-
desses of the Seasons for her first appearance among her peers on Olympus.

Dancing Back to Arcady

you are emancipated from all that reminds you of the en-
vironment of your modern conventional existence. Your
body no longer is the slave of Fashion. It is draped, not
clothed. These draperies — merely a filmy envelope for
the body — offer no restraint to the freest movement of
any member, and they add, rather than detract as clothes
do, to the body's grace and beauty. Perhaps you have a
scarf, so light that it is the sport of every zephyr. This
gracious freedom of the body is symbolical of all that
enters into your idyllic life — your poetic sylvan envi-
ronment, your ignorance of the meaning of such words
as care or worry. You are a creature whose birthright
is pure joy. Ordinary mortals walk; you dance. Of
course — how can you help dancing? Now, throwing
aside your scarf, you join a group of sister nymphs who
are bathing in the sunlit stream. The rustling of the
reeds on the bank is music in your ears. It blends with
distant strains from the pipes of Pan. Presently you
demonstrate that your shapely limbs are made for run-
ning as well as dancing. Startled by the approach of a
mischievous young faun, you leave the stream and, seiz-
ing your scarf, run from his presence with the speed and
grace of Atalanta herself. But it is only sport after all,
for the fauns, the dryads, the naiads, are all daughters
and sons of the deities of woods and streams, your fellow
creatures of this happy sylvan world.

It is Autumn. The leaves are turning, the harvest
is over and the vintage is on. Green leaves are entwined

One Hundred Thirteen

Dancing Back to Arcady

in your tresses — you are a Bacchante. You owe tribute
of devotion to Dionysos, god of wine, whom the Romans
called Bacchus. But as you are in the character of a bac-
chante of the classic period, the revels are not unseemly.
You do not become intoxicated with wine, only mildly
exhilarated. Ruthless satyrs and the gross Silenus came
later when the Golden Age had passed from twilight into
total darkness. You press out the purple grapes with
your feet. You carry large bunches of the fruit in your
hands, and you bear gracefully upon one shoulder, sup-
ported by the upraised arm, vessels brimming with the
generous new vintage. As Dionysos represented the
social and beneficent influences of the vintage, all your
fellow creatures of the woods and streams are there —
young fauns girdled with skins, trophies of the chase;
Pan, discoursing sweet music on his pipes; sister bac-
chantes innumerable, and mortals old and young, for
pressing the grapes and storing the wine is the serious
business of mortals. It may be that Artemis — Diana of
the Romans — lends her chaste beauty to the scene for a
moment, returning with her nymphs and dogs from the
chase. Perhaps Ares — the Roman Mars — god of war
and half-brother to Dionysos, may pause in passing to
doff his plumed helmet in honor of the occasion — in
which event it would be reasonable to expect the pres-
ence of Aphrodite, also!

And it all means dancing. Dancing as we dance
provides the only adequate visioning forth of the classic

On« Hundred Fourteen

Dancing Back to Arcady

activities of Arcady. And when we dance with our
actual selves transformed into living embodiments of
these fabled, yet immortal beings, our feet are upon the
straight highway leading to our ultimate goal — creative
adaptation of classic Greek dancing to the aesthetic and
hygienic needs of our own time.

Greek dancing, as we practise and teach it, means
infinitely more than the most faithful mere imitation of
that very ancient art. It is a philosophy of living and
doing which contains beneficent precepts available for
the personal application of every human being. To be
emancipated from the drag of ill health, or the dread of
it; to be able laughingly to defy that curse of our very
modern social life, neurasthenia; to smilingly face old
age with every nerve still tingling with the joy of living;
to know all beauty, not merely as a spectator but as an
active participant — are not these real benefits, well worth
seizing even from the hands of a "Greek dancer" ? Greek
games also are within the Greek dancer's province.
They will develop into Graeco-American games — more
enticing, perhaps, to the masculine mind, and compre-
hending the same advantages. Truly, Arcady is a
blessed land. Why not, everyone, say proudly with the
poet Goethe: "I also was born in Arcady?" And add,
with yet more significance : "And in Arcady henceforth
shall I dwell."

One Hundred Fifteen

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